Beyond the Rim (Rebels and Patriots Book 2)

by A. G. Claymore

  Ava reached out to place a hand on the man’s shoulder as he reached the bottom. “Edward, this is Paul.” She gave them a moment to shake hands. “Edward looks after the house for me and provides wisdom as needed.”

  “Welcome to Segusium,” Edward offered formally. He looked around Julia to where the younger guard from the dock was holding Paul and Julia’s duffel bags. “Master Klum, let me take those upstairs.” He took the two bags and turned to Ava.

  “I’ve put out two bottles on the terrace and lit the braziers on the off-chance you might want to relax and catch up with family.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Edward. Two steps ahead of me, as always.”

  As Edward mounted the stairs, she turned to the guard. “Well, Thomas, come over here and meet your famous uncle.”

  Paul looked around at the smiling young man. He was slightly taller and broader in the shoulders but, now that he looked at the young man, he bore more than a passing resemblance to his grandfather.

  Unsure what to do, Paul held out his hand. “A nephew…” he said, half to himself as they shook hands.

  “It’s good to finally meet you, Inspector,” the young man said.

  Paul snorted. “I’m not sure I’m an inspector out here,” he replied. “The Eye’s jurisdiction ends at the Rim.” The young man darted a meaningful glance at his mother before taking Julia’s hand.

  “General.” He gave her hand a quick shake. “Welcome to Segusium.”

  He turned back to his mother. “I’d better get back out there and see to the relief guards.” He turned without another word and left through the front door.

  Julia smiled at Paul. “A nephew! And a damned handsome one at that!”

  That brought a smile to Ava’s face. People can easily shrug off a compliment made directly about them, but most were unable to resist a compliment about their children. She linked arms with Julia. “Let’s have a drink.”

  She led them to the back of the foyer where a set of stained-glass doors led out to a cloistered terrace. As soon as they stepped out, the strange grinding sound was back.

  “What’s making that noise?” Julia asked.

  “Hmm?” Ava looked out across the moonlit lake. “Oh, that’s just trees. There’s a species of extreme heliomorphs that spends the fall migrating down the valley. They drop their seeds where they won’t freeze until the middle of winter. That way, the cold stratifies them at just the right time for summer currents in the Croatan Sea.

  “Like those trees on the south continent, back on Hardisty?” Paul asked. “Sunlight causes unidirectional root growth?”

  Ava nodded as she poured three glasses of wine. “Except these trees are a more extreme example. You can actually see the growth. We should see the first of them passing the town in a few days.”

  They sat around a long table and Ava raised a glass. “To the return of long-lost family.”

  Paul noticed as he raised his own glass that a shadow had stolen across her features as she spoke the words. He took a sip, enjoying the light taste of the green vintage. Pinot Grigio was one of the few wines he found tolerable. Perhaps it was genetic.

  Ava smiled at Paul. “Who’d have thought?” she said playfully. “My brother the knight!” She looked down at the glass, swirling it and watching the liquid slowly slide back down the sides.

  “Mom cried when we saw a holo copy of the ceremony; she was so proud.” She frowned a little. “We were both a little conflicted about you being with the Eye, given our thoughts about the Imperium, but at least it was better than being some local city goon. She would have liked to watch you strangle Seneca.”

  Paul took refuge in another sip of wine, giving himself a chance to control his emotions before speaking. “You heard about his execution already?”

  A nod followed by a sip. “A ship came out here the following month. Executing a Grand Senator on the chamber podium can cause quite a sensation, you know.” She chuckled darkly. “That’s the kind of police work that would have made Mom proud.”

  Paul took a deep breath. “How long ago did she…”

  “Three years back,” Ava said, “from natural causes at the end of a full and happy life. Her experience as a data clerk on Hardisty got her an entry-level job with Clerestory. She worked her way up to running her own continuous improvement team. Saved the tax-payers a lot of credits.”

  “Clerestory’s the company on my letter of mark,” Julia said in surprise. “They’re the government?”

  “For the next three years, at least,” Ava replied.

  “Why did Roanoke go with corporate governance instead of democracy?” Paul asked.

  A laugh. “Paul, it’s far more democratic than that pack of rich oligarchs in the Grand Senate. They have complete control over who joins their club. Votes can be bought or subverted easily enough and never with their own money.

  “They’re already stinking rich but they want to serve in the senate so they can write laws to make themselves richer.” She leaned closer, across the table. “And they don’t take the money from each other; they get it from the misery of poor families like ours. Then they use that money to buy elections.”

  Paul wanted to argue, but the Nathaniels had involved him in some of their election management strategies. He knew the truth of her words.

  She set her glass down. “Look,” she began in a reasonable tone, “here, the citizens vote on who gets the contract to run our infrastructure for four years at a time. We have an advisory council that oversees the company, but being nominated is seen as more like an obligation than a privilege. It’s like being called up for jury duty.

  “I served a term a couple of years ago and it nearly bankrupted me.” She gestured up to the sky, oddly bright considering the darkness in the deep mountain valley. “A captain doesn’t collect her share of bounty unless she’s on one of her ships during the action in question.”

  She leaned over to Julia. “We should have a quiet chat about that. It’s impressive as hell, getting yourself a small fleet within hours of your own rescue, but you’ll need to do a bit of scrambling to keep those decks under your feet in the short term.”

  Both women looked over as Paul yawned hugely, arms stretched out. “Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly.

  Ava smiled. “Why don’t you wash up? I’ll bring Julia along in a few minutes.”

  “Umm…” Paul sat a little straighter, his right hand on the armrest. “Sure, except I don’t… Oh, hello, Edward.”

  He stood, returning the man’s polite nod. “I’ll see you later, then,” he said to the two women.

  He followed Edward back into the house and up the stairs. The room was large with a door at the far side.

  “You’ll find the washroom in there,” Edward told him, stepping over to a large, ornately carved wardrobe. He pulled the doors open to reveal a selection of men’s clothing. “I took the liberty of downloading some scans from the Mary Starbuck.”

  With a polite nod, the man left, and Paul realized he should have asked whether Julia would be shown to this room or separate quarters of her own. He decided a shower was far more important than matters that could be sorted out later.

  Twenty minutes later, he came back out of the washroom and dressed. No sign of Julia. He looked around the room, noticing three other wardrobes. The first proved empty but the second was filled with clothing for a woman. New clothing, no doubt based on scans of Julia from the Mary Starbuck.

  He wondered what those scans would look like, and the dreamy look on his face was still there when Julia walked in. “What’s the goofy look for?” She asked in amusement.

  He gestured at the clothes. “That Edward really seems to think of everything.”

  She snorted. “And look at everything, from what I can see. Those look like a pretty good fit for someone who’s never seen me before.”

  “Ah.” Paul scratched the back of his head. “He did mention using data from the ship to get the sizes right.” He stepped over to the window, hoping to
change the direction of the conversation. “At least that creaking sound seems to be quieting down for the night…”

  She sat on the bed, reaching behind her neck for the clasps of her under-armor suit. The springs let out a metallic protest.

  She grinned. “I’m going to have a quick shower, and then I think the creaking might just start up again.”

  To Work

  Paul settled into the same chair he’d occupied the previous night. He looked out across the lake, seeing several water-skimming craft.

  A large floating village, held aloft by suspensor drives, was drifting lazily toward Segusium. It looked like one of the strange communities he’d seen on the flight in last night. Evidently, they didn’t just spend all their time moored at a lonely mountaintop.

  The creaking was back again and he treated himself to a private smile. He could definitely get used to the noise.

  Edward was setting out the morning meal.

  Paul reached out and selected a round, fuzzy object. He looked up at Ava, but her amused expression gave no hint.

  “Well, go ahead and give it a sniff,” she finally urged.

  He held it to his nose and suddenly found himself transported back across two decades. “This smells like peach,” he whispered. He could still remember the anger in his mother’s voice. Their father had bought nearly a hundred grams of peach out of the blue. It had been the most amazing thing Paul had ever tasted in his young life.

  One of his best memories of his father, and coming so close on its heels was the worst. Just hours later, Adrian Grimm was dead at the bottom of a mine shaft. He’d died a free citizen, just barely, and his small family was given the standard accidental death bounty.

  “If it’s peach,” Paul asked, taking refuge in the mundane, “why is it packaged as a sphere? It seems very inefficient.”

  Ava laughed without restraint. “This isn’t the Imperium, Paul.” She lifted one of the strange objects. “This isn’t peach; it’s a peach.”

  Paul frowned at his sister. He wasn’t sure what she was getting at. He looked at Julia but saw no hint of understanding there either. “I don’t get what you’re trying to say here.” He turned back to Ava. “ A peach? What’s the distinction?”

  She brandished the fuzzy sphere. “This is a real peach. It wasn’t grown in a vat, sliced up and shipped to distributors; it was grown, hanging from that tree you can see over the wall behind me.”

  Paul followed her gesture, seeing green leaves blowing in the light breeze. He saw more of the strange objects hanging from the branches and his eyes widened in amazement. “Someone found a way to grow peach on trees?”

  Ava shook her head. “The old colony ships carried seed banks. It was at least two centuries before vat-grown food became common in the Imperium. They had seeds for dozens of different fruit trees.” She gestured at the small orchard behind her.

  “This is the natural way, the original way to produce fruit.” She took a knife and sliced all the way around the sphere in her hand before giving the two halves a twist. They separated cleanly and she used the knife to flick out a small, hard wrinkly object from one of the halves.

  “This protective shell has a single seed inside,” she told them. “It’s all you need if you want a peach tree on your property.” She handed the halves to her two guests.

  Paul looked at the half sphere, a dubious look on his face. He took a bite.

  It was similar to that first taste of peach, but there was something else, some randomness to the flavor and some fibrous structure. It was different, but it felt right.

  “He didn’t just fall,” Paul asked quietly, looking up at his sister, “did he?”

  His sister shook her head. “We were a week away from the auction block when he died. If not for the accidental death bounty, we’d all be indentured servants right now.

  “I couldn’t even look at a peach for years after we came out here.” She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, a sad smile on her face. “Mom planted the tree to keep his memory alive. I realized he bought peach all those years ago so he could take a happy memory with him. Now they help me remember that moment, help me share the happiness in his final moments with us.”

  Paul, still trying to figure out how to relate to his sister, reached out and took her hand. He knew that, in an interrogation, this was the kind of moment to dig. He felt like an ass, but something was wrong here and, if he could help…

  “Ava, what’s going on here?” he asked gently.

  Julia’s eyebrows raised in alarm. She leaned forward to look at him across the table, but he kept his eyes on his sister.

  “You wear that security detail like a borrowed suit,” he told her. “And you keep straying close to topics that you then steer away from but not before a hint of anger manages to show through.” He still held her hand and he gave it a little squeeze of solidarity. “Whatever it is, we’d like to help.”

  Ava took a deep breath, looking out across the lake. “Last night, you met my son,” she stated matter-of-factly. She turned to Paul. “You haven’t met his little sister because someone has taken her.”

  This was the sort of thing he’d seen before. He’d investigated several missing persons cases as favors to well-placed friends of the Nathaniel family. It always involved a demand for some kind of action from the parents, whose influence was always far more valuable than mere credits.

  Ava was a privateer leader of some renown, and she’d served on the ruling council. Paul was certainly no expert on how Roanoke worked, but he was reasonably certain his sister possessed considerable influence.

  “They don’t want money, do they?” he asked, while making it clear it wasn’t really a question.

  A shake of the head. “They want me to stay silent on politics and keep away from the conflict with the Spirians.”

  Paul frowned. “Politics? I thought you didn’t have politics out here, except for elections every four years.”

  She shook her head. “We still have politics; it just looks different. The management companies do a pretty good imitation of political parties when they’re vying for a contract, but that’s only at election time. The rest of the four-year cycle is more about the council.

  “Councillors are constantly barraged by folks who want us to override the plans and put a hospital or school closer to their neighborhood or keep the population density at a level that won’t support planned development so they aren’t as ‘crowded’.”

  She shook her head. “Those are obviously not newcomers from the Imperium. If they could only believe half of the horror stories they hear from the new fools, they’d shut the hell up.”

  “Yeah,” Paul cut in, “but you aren’t a councillor anymore, right?”

  A nod. “But, former councillors aren’t bound by confidentiality oaths on current matters of state. The media can’t get comments from serving members of the council, so they come to those who’ve had experience serving under the dome.

  “It almost gives us more influence over the ebb and flow of public sentiment than the actual councillors.”

  “So, somebody wants to prevent you from opposing their agenda?” Paul was glaring down at the bowl of peach. No, a tiny part of his mind corrected him, peaches. He shook his head. “Why not harness your influence to serve their cause, whatever it is?”

  “I know, right?” She spread her hands in frustration. “The only thing I can think of is they can’t run the risk of anyone figuring out what their true agenda really is. It must be something so outrageous that public knowledge would put an end to their plans.”

  “Let me look into this,” Paul urged. “This is what I do, remember?”

  An uncertain wave of her hand. “I don’t know, Paul. They might harm her if they know you’re involved. The entire planet watched you strangle Senator Seneca.”

  “If we leave here now,” he insisted, “they won’t know. I’m invisible. When Dem and Robin found us on that Gray transport, he had no idea who I was until he saw Julia.
We might both be famous, but she’s the one folks recognize, not me.

  “And,” he added with a grim smile, “the entire planet didn’t watch me strangle Seneca; they watched Seneca being strangled by some guy.”

  “He’s right,” Julia said. “Except for the we part.” She held up a hand to forestall his protest. “You said it yourself: I’m recognisable. I’d draw attention and you don’t need that right now – and anyway, I’ve got obligations that need to be addressed and quickly.”

  Again she held up a hand but, this time, to cut off Ava’s protest. “No, I appreciate your assurances that I have time in this, but I just won’t feel comfortable until I can sort out my command and resolve all of the outstanding issues.”

  Paul suddenly felt he was behind the curve. Whatever the two had discussed last night, it was a lot more than just their shared connection to him.

  Julia turned back to Paul. “We both need to get to Ravenna this morning to get our citizen chips, and I need to register the Ava Klum, but we need to go there separately.”

  She pointed out at the lake, where the indigenous monastery was steadily growing closer. “And then I need to come back and visit the Brotherhood of Confidences before I ship out.”

  “Citizenship?” Paul blurted. “Are you thinking of staying here?”

  A shrug. “I don’t know, Paul, but I need to register myself if I’m going to command my ships and I’m not such a fool that I don’t know what an incredible stroke of luck it is to have them in the first place. If we can’t get back, we’ll be glad we kept them.”

  “In fairness,” Ava interrupted, “the first ship was a stroke of bad luck on Foch’s part coupled with the right attitude on your part. The second ship was a stroke of tactical genius coupled with the luck any good commander needs.”

  She turned to Paul. “You’ll need a chip if you’re going to look for my daughter. You have to be a citizen to be licensed as a Justice.”

  She saw the raised eyebrow and provided the explanation. “A Justice is empowered to investigate crimes and carry out sentences. They work on commission. If a citizen feels they’ve been wronged, they hire a Justice to look into it.”